


The Prince of Pokémon

by lahdolphin



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pokemon, Canon Typical Violence, Gen, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-07 15:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4269273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lahdolphin/pseuds/lahdolphin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Pokémon Legend of Kirihara, Hiyoshi, and Zaizen is about to unfold. A world of dreams and adventures with Pokémon awaits!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pokémon, I Choose You!

_This is the world of Pokémon! For some people, Pokémon are pets. Others train Pokémon for battle with hopes of becoming a Pokémon Master. There are even those who study Pokémon as a profession. Wherever you go, people and Pokémon coexist in harmony. There are no limits to what people and Pokémon can accomplish together._

_For three young boys from Tenipuri, their very own Pokémon Legend is about to unfold. A world of dreams and adventures with Pokémon awaits!_

 

* * *

 

“He’s late,” Hiyoshi says irritably, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Zaizen asks. “He’s _always_ late.”

Hiyoshi sinks further into the sofa, frowning at the red and white Poké Ball in his hand. He’s anxious to start his journey, to go out and see the world.

They had planned their departure from their hometown for years—it had been Kirihara’s idea for them to travel together in the first place—and now that it’s time to finally leave with their Pokémon, Kirihara is _late_.

 

* * *

 

New Pallet Town is a rural community at the southern peninsula of the region of Tenipuri. It’s a small but vibrant community built on rolling hills, surrounded by thick forests, and sustained by the saltwater bay.

Here in New Pallet Town, Pokémon are pets and partners, not fighters, but ever since the arrival of the Pokémon Professor, kids from the town have been receiving Pokémon at the age of fifteen and setting out for their own grand adventure.

Kirihara Akaya is one of those kids.

Kirihara rolls out of bed, screaming in panic then in pain as he hits his bedroom floor with a painful _thump_. Pale yellow sunlight streams in through his window, burning his eyes—the sun only comes into his room during midday.

What time is it?

He scrambles desperately, hitting his head on the nightstand, and grabs his alarm clock that isn’t ringing like it’s supposed to. He sees the time and screams again.

“I’m late!”

He runs downstairs without getting dressed, sliding down the railing of the stairs to save a few seconds, and sprints out the front door in a mad dash for the Pokémon Lab at the bottom of the hill. Kamio is probably there already, Momoshiro and Kaidoh too, and definitely Hiyoshi and Zaizen.

He is late and he is _so_ screwed.

His neighbor shrieks when she sees him run by his underwear. He runs barefoot through Main Street, heading down, down, down the hill to the bayside where Pokémon Professor Watanabe’s laboratory is located.

His first choice was probably already taken—that’s fine, Kirihara has back ups—anything would do, really. If he gets something weak, he’ll dump it in the wild and replace it with something stronger. After all, he needs the strongest team possible if he’s going to beat Hiyoshi and become the Champion of Tenipuri and eventually, a Pokémon Master.

How could he have ever slept on the most important day of his life? Why does this always happen to him?

Kirihara screams again, louder, as if that will make his legs move faster, and picks up the pace, nearly flying down the streets past the store windows. He runs by the Pokémon Dojo where Hiyoshi lives and past the school he spent his childhood trapped in.

The bustling town begins to thin to grassland. He can see Professor Watanabe’s lab up ahead along with the bay. He jumps the white corral fence and goes in through the side entrance to save time.

“I’m here!” he shouts, breathless and sweaty and just now realizing he ran all the way here in his underwear like a total dork.

The computers beep at Kirihara and Professor Watanabe gawks at him, spinning around in his chair to get a good look at him.

“Hey there, Kirihara,” the professor says. “I was wondering when you were gonna show up. Everyone else from your class was already here.”

“Everyone?” Kirihara asks. That’s nearly twenty kids! “I came here to get my Pokémon.”

Professor Watanabe lowers his hat over his head. “Sorry, kid, just sent the last one out with Tsukishima.”

“You’re… out of Pokémon?”

“Afraid so.”

Kirihara drops to the floor, staring at the intersecting lines of the white linoleum tiles. No. This cannot be happening. He has a plan with Hiyoshi and Zaizen. How can he be the strongest trainer if he isn’t even a trainer?

The door on the other side of the room opens. Hiyoshi and Zaizen come inside. Kirihara really doesn’t want to see his friends right now.

“We heard screaming,” Zaizen says, sounding bored. “We figured it was you, Kirihara.”

“You’re late,” Hiyoshi says flatly. He makes a judgmental face as he crosses his arms. “And you’re in your underwear. Gross.”

Kirihara doesn’t care that he’s in his underwear (okay, maybe a little, but not a lot in the grand scheme of things), he cares that he doesn’t have a Pokémon. He’s dreamed about this moment for years.

This sucks. It’s his own fault for oversleeping, but it still seems unfair, like this would only happen to him.

Zaizen frowns, suddenly serious, and asks him, “Why do you look so down?”

“He’s out,” Kirihara says miserably. “Professor Watanabe’s out of starter Pokémon.”

Hiyoshi and Zaizen stare at Kirihara for several seconds then look at Professor Watanabe.

“Can’t you just get another one from a breeder?” Hiyoshi asks.

“Starter Pokémon are rare,” Professor Watanabe says, turning idly in his chair. “They’re strong enough to protect young trainers in the wild but domestic enough to be easily trained. They don’t breed often, though, which is what makes them hard to get. Plus we’ve only got the one real breeder in this region.”

“Then give him something else,” Zaizen says. “I don’t think he’ll be that picky.”

Kirihara hadn’t even thought of that. Thank Arceus that he’s friends with the smartest kid in class.

“I’ll take anything,” Kirihara says quickly, “even if it’s the weakest thing you have.”

“Well,” Professor Watanabe says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “I do have _something_ that might work. It should be strong enough to protect you in the wild…”

“Anything!” Kirihara repeats, beyond desperate.

Professor Watanabe sighs and pushes himself up to stand. “Follow me, kiddies, we’re going on a field trip.”

They walk through the lab, a single floor with multiple rooms of computers, machines, and books dedicated to Pokémon; on the floor above them is Professor Watanabe’s living quarters.

Outside, in the massive fenced in area that spans the forest, grassy hills, and bay is where all the Pokémon that Professor Watanabe looks after live.

Professor Watanabe cares for over three hundred Pokémon of all different types and species. Most belong to trainers he works with, but others are his own that he studies. Kirihara, Hiyoshi, and Zaizen have snuck in to the laboratory more times than they can remember to look at all the Pokémon and they’ve caused a fair bit of trouble for it.

The three of them are known as troublemakers, but Kirihara prefers the term adventurers.

Professor Watanabe takes them outback to the grass field and opens the gate to a small fenced in section about the size of Kirihara’s bedroom. It’s overrun with tall grass. Kirihara has seen Professor Watanabe use these pens to house sick Pokémon.

“This Pokémon was the runt so his siblings wouldn’t let him feed,” Professor Watanabe explains as he wades into the thigh-high grass, clearly searching for something. “I had no choice but to remove him and raise him here until he was large enough to be put back into the general population.”

“And, uh, what population is that?” Kirihara asks.

“This one,” Professor Watanabe says, smiling as he lifts a tiny Pokémon out of the grass. “Ta-da!”

The front of half of the quadruped feline creature is light blue, while the rear is black. There’s a short tuft of fur on its head, which has large, oval ears with yellow star-shaped markings on the inside. It has yellow eyes and tiny fangs on its upper jaw. Above each of its forepaws is a single yellow band. 

It is absolutely adorable and Kirihara has no idea what the heck it is.

“Kirihara, meet Shinx.” Professor Watanabe thrusts his arms out to Kirihara, who hesitantly grabs the Pokémon— _Shinx_ , he thinks.

“Shinx!” the creature cries, high and completely nonthreatening.

Zaizen snickers.

“Shut up!” Kirihara snaps. “Don’t make fun of my Pokémon.”

“I’m not making fun of it,” Zaizen says, though his grin says otherwise. “How could I make fun of something so cute?”

Kirihara blushes bright red. He pulls Shinx close to his chest, the tiny Pokémon moving around in his arms restlessly.

Professor Watanabe claps his hands together and smiles. “I think that will do nicely. Now, if you will follow me inside, I can give you each of you your very own Pokédex.”

Professor Watanabe has them wait in a backroom that smells like sour air freshener with an old sofa, a coffee table that’s missing a leg and wobbles, and pictures of trainers who Professor Watanabe works with.

Kirihara holds Shinx at arms length, staring at its yellow eyes.

Kirihara frowns and says, “It looks so weak.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Hiyoshi says.

“What did you get anyways?” Kirihara asks.

Hiyoshi smirks. “I got the best one.”

Professor Watanabe comes back into the room holding three nearly flat, red rectangles. He hands one to each of them. It has a sleek appearance, a blank screen, and a few complicated buttons that Kirihara is tempted to poke and press.

“Those are your Pokédexes,” Professor Watanabe says. “Point them at a Pokémon and it’ll give all kinds of useful information and tips. Why don’t you try them out on your Pokémon?”

Kirihara sets Shinx on the ground instead of the dangerously unstable coffee table. He points the Pokédex at Shinx and a mechanical voice says:

_Shinx, the flash Pokémon, electric. Its forelegs have a muscle-based system of generating electricity. Its body shines if endangered. It flees while the foe is momentarily blinded._

“And this,” Professor Watanabe says, reaching into his pocket, “is Shinx’s Poké Ball.”

He hands Kirihara a small, half-red, half-white ball the size of his eye. Kirihara shoves it into his pocket for now.

Shinx curls up near Kirihara’s feet into a tiny ball and dang it, how can Kirihara fight off anything with a Pokémon like Shinx? He wanted some vicious. Shinx looks like he doesn't have a single vicious bone in his entire body. 

Zaizen reaches down to his belt and unhooks a Poké Ball. He presses a small button and the ball swells in his hand. With a bright light, a Pokémon appears.

It’s a bipedal reptilian Pokémon with an orange body, though its underside and soles are cream-colored. It has large blue eyes, and tiny fangs, and a small flickering flame at the end of its tale.

** **

Zaizen points his Pokédex at the orange Pokémon.

 _Charmander, the_ _lizard Pokémon, fire. The flame that burns at the tip of its tail is an indication of its emotions. The flame wavers when Charmander is enjoying itself. If the Pokémon becomes enraged, the flame burns fiercely._

Kirihara bitterly thinks that he had wanted a Charmander. Instead he has Shinx, a little ball of fur that was a runt and unable to fend for itself. Kirihara is beginning to think that maybe Shinx _is_ worse than nothing.

Charmander sits on the ground by Zaizen’s feet, holding its tail in front of it so it doesn’t catch anything on fire.

Hiyoshi takes a Poké Ball off his belt and lets out his Pokémon.

Hiyoshi’s Pokémon is a quadruped, frog-like creature with light blue skin, white hands, and a dark blue stripe from the center of its head to its nose. Its eyes protrude vertically from its head. It has a large mane of bubbles from its chest and back.

_Froakie, the bubble frog Pokémon, water. It protects its skin by covering its body in delicate bubbles. The bubbles reduce the damage it would otherwise take when attacked. Beneath its happy-go-lucky air, it keeps a watchful eye on its surroundings._

Froakie hops up onto Hiyoshi’s shoulder with ease and sits, looking around with its large eyes. Kirihara’s Shinx makes a pathetic noise when Froakie looks at it.

“At least _pretend_ to be strong,” Kirihara groans, picking up Shinx. He frowns at the tiny Pokémon. “You better get strong, got it? No losing to weaklings like Hiyoshi.”

Shinx cries cutely. Kirihara whines in annoyance.

“For a second there, I almost took your challenge seriously,” Hiyoshi says. “She almost did too."

“She?” Kirihara asks.

“My Pokémon—Froakie—is female.”

“My Charmander is male,” Zaizen says.

Kirihara looks at Shinx. How is he supposed to tell? Do Pokémon have bits and pieces down there too?

“Shinx is male,” Professor Watanabe supplies.

“But that doesn’t really affect anything, right?” Kirihara asks, suddenly unsure even though he knew they had learned about this in school.

They had learned all about Pokémon (and writing and math and boring things) and he had even passed a test before Professor Watanabe would even consider giving him a Pokémon when he turned fifteen. Kirihara had scraped by with the minimum score—but he still passed!

Zaizen looks like he has a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, but he never gets to say it. Without warning, there’s a massive crash from outside that shakes the foundation of the lab that’s followed by a horrible series of Pokémon cries.

Professor Watanabe looks frantic. “Stay inside. I’ll be right back. Do not touch _anything_.”

The professor runs off, muttering under his breath, leaving the three newbie trainers by themselves.

Kirihara gives it ten seconds before saying something stupid: “Let’s go check it out.”

“Did you hear that sound?” Hiyoshi asks in disbelief. “It sounded like something is on a rampage. We should stay inside.”

Froakie nods her head and crosses her arms, like she is agreeing with her trainer. Great. Even Hiyoshi’s Pokémon has a stick up her butt.

“It’s too dangerous,” Hiyoshi finishes.

Kirihara smiles and jumps to his feet. “That makes it official—we’re going to check it out. C’mon, Hiyoshi, we always do stuff like this. We even have Pokémon now. We’re much safer snooping around now than we were last week.”

“Last week I fell into the Tentacool habitat and nearly drowned,” Hiyoshi replies flatly.

“But you lived!” Kirihara says. “Zaizen, help me out.”

Another loud cry from outside.

Zaizen says, “Let’s go check it out.”

Kirihara tosses his hands up in victory. Shinx runs around his feet, not sure why his trainer is happy, but he’s going to be happy for his trainer anyways.

The trio leaves, their Pokémon following closely behind them, and goes outside to the field. The fences have been torn up, Pokémon are in chaos, and long streaks of kicked up grass and dirt cover the enclosure. In the center of it all is a rampaging pack of beasts—four-legged Pokémon with light brown fur but a darker mane and two large horns at the front of their heads.

** **

Kirihara pulls out his Pokédex and points it at the stamped.

_Tauros, the wild bull Pokémon, normal. When it targets an enemy, it charges furiously while whipping its body with its long tails. It is famous for its violent nature._

Professor Watanabe is focusing on moving the other Pokémon fenced inside out of the way of the stamped, which is headed in a single direction.

Oh no.

“They’re coming this way, aren’t they?” Kirihara asks. All the blood drained from his body, collecting somewhere in his feet, which felt like jello. This suddenly felt like a very, very bad idea.

Shinx growls and jumps in front of his trainer, ready to fight. If Shinx were a bigger, stronger Pokémon, Kirihara probably would have been relieved because those Tauros are approaching _fast_. But it’s just Shinx, the runt of the litter that is too weak to fend for himself against his siblings and feed.

“Even if we leave, they’ll run into the lab,” Zaizen says. “We need to steer them away.”

“And how do we do that?” Kirihara asks.

“Charmander, use Ember on the grass!” Zaizen orders.

Charmander obeys his trainer. Hot, orange flames spit out of Charmander’s mouth, lighting small patches on fire. The right half the stamped see the smoke and growing flames and back off. That takes care of a third of the problem, but the other two thirds are still coming their way.

“Froakie,” Hiyoshi says, “use Bubble!”

Froakie jumps up onto Hiyoshi’s shoulder and opens her mouth. Just as flames had come from Charmander’s mouth, large, clear bubbles come out of Froakie’s. The bubbles stick and pop to several Tauros, causing them to stop or veer off into another direction, but at least five are still charging at them.

The Tauros are dangerously close now. Kirihara doesn’t even know Shinx’s moves—he has no idea what to call out—but Shinx doesn’t know that, and poor little Shinx jumps in front of the stamped.

“ _No!_ ” Kirihara shouts. He’s about to dive and protect his Pokémon when the strangest thing happens.

The Tauros stop.

Kirihara looks at Hiyoshi’s Froakie and Zaizen’s Charmander, but they haven’t done anything. He looks back at Shinx—his Shinx—who has somehow stopped five wild Tauros from trampling them.

“Kirihara,” Hiyoshi says, like his voice is stuck in his throat. “Shinx’s eyes, they’ve changed.”

What? Kirihara couldn’t see Shinx’s face from where he's standing. What did Hiyoshi mean ‘they’ve changed’?

Slowly, the Tauros begin to back up then they turn around and calmly begin to walk back to their designated location, which now lay in ruins beneath pieces of broken fence.

“What—“ Kirihara still isn’t sure about what he just saw. “What just happened?”

Hiyoshi frowns. Zaizen doesn’t answer.

“Intimidate,” Professor Watanabe says, raking a hand through his hair as he approaches. “It’s a skill some Pokémon are born with. Intimidate cuts enemy attack, but I’ve never seen a Pokémon with intimidation so strong that it stops a rampaging Tauros dead in their tracks…” Professor Watanabe looks at Shinx and rubs his chin curiously.

“Are the other Pokémon okay?” Zaizen asks.

Professor Watanabe nods. “Yup. Are you kids okay? What about your Pokémon?” They all nod to both questions. “How ‘bout some Poké Dolls for a job well done? Those Tauros would have destroyed my lab if it weren’t for you three.”

“No,” the three say immediately.

Professor Watanabe looks startled by their sudden response.

“No Poké Dolls,” Zaizen clarifies.

“Kids these days don’t appreciate Poké Dolls like they used to.” Professor Watanabe looks around. “Oh, man, this is going to take ages to clean up…”

Kirihara looks down at Shinx, the same adorable little Shinx that had just scared the pants off those rampaging Tauros just by looking at them. Shinx rolls onto his back.

“I think he wants a belly rub,” Zaizen says.

Embarrassed, Kirihara grumbles, “I’ll give you a belly rub later.”

“Shinx!” the creature cries happily.

Kirihara pulls out Shinx’s Poké Ball and points it at him. “Shinx, return.” With a flash of light, Shinx returns to his Poké Ball.

Maybe Shinx isn’t as weak as he initially thought. Maybe he should put on some pants because he’s still in his underwear. But most importantly, maybe his epic Pokémon journey stands a chance after all.

 

* * *

 

On Main Street, there is a traditional house known as the Pokémon Dojo that stands out from the other buildings around it. The two-story house is built with sliding doors, paper walls, and wooden passages. Flyers about lesson times are stamped on the front door (“Pokémon and humans accepted!”).

At dawn, Hiyoshi wakes up. He lets out Froakie in the bath, which the last one he will have at home for quite some time, he realizes. Today is the day he sets out—that _they_ set out.

He will become a Pokémon Master no matter what.

He dresses and takes his bag, packed only with the necessities, and heads downstairs. His father is silent during breakfast. His mother asks to see his bag so she can pack in the lunches she made for him. Froakie sits on the table and eats from  Machoke’s bowl; his father's Machoke is more than willing to share.

After breakfast, Hiyoshi calls Froakie back into her ball. He has planned this day for years, but the tension is something he had not expected. His parents follow him around the house, as if they expect him to just leave without saying goodbye.

When he is ready to go, standing in the front door way, it hits him that he is finally leaving, finally staring his own journey, finally making a name for himself.

“Remember to keep training,” his father says. “Just because you have a Pokémon doesn’t mean you can forget your own body.”

“Yes, Father.”

His mother adds, “And do your laundry regularly, especially your underwear.”

Hiyoshi blushes. He wants to run to avoid the embarrassment, to leave before this gets any worse, but there is something he told himself he would do when he left home.

Without over thinking it, he bows deeply. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he says.

The honesty makes him feel awkward and exposed. Is his mother crying? 

“Wakashi,” his mother sobs. Yes, she’s crying. “Go, before I change my mind about all of this.”

“Have fun,” his father says.

Machoke let’s out a huff of air.

Hiyoshi stands with his head held high. He smiles, turns, and heads for the door.

 

* * *

 

Zaizen does not want to conquer the Pokémon League like Kirihara and Hiyoshi, or become a Pokémon Master (a title so vague that they had to write papers about it in school and what they thought it meant). In fact, Zaizen has no intention of battling at all if he can avoid it.

He is traveling to study Pokémon, to learn everything he can learn about them. He wants to be a Pokémon Researcher.

Kirihara and Hiyoshi say he has a boring dream, but he doesn’t really care what they think. Pokémon are fascinating to him. They would even save a drowning boy they had never met…

Zaizen knows everything he could possibly need on his journey is in his bag. He even triple checked everything a week ago to make sure he didn’t forget anything. The morning they’re planned to set off, he packs food for himself (and probably Kirihara and Hiyoshi because there’s no way they’re packing properly) and for his Charmander (again, with enough to spare until the next city).

He leaves a note for his parents instead of waking them up, apologizing for lying about the time he was leaving. He isn’t good at good-byes.

He steps outside his house, resolved, and sees Hiyoshi waiting for him by his mailbox. Together, they head up the hill to Kirihara’s house.

 

* * *

 

Kirihara is just finishing attaching Shinx’s ball to his belt when his mother calls up the stairs:

“Sweetie, your friends are here.”

“Tell them I’ll be done in a minute!”

Kirihara slings his backpack over his shoulder, double checks that his shoes are tied, and leaves his childhood bedroom. He doesn’t know when he’ll be back. He takes one last look at the stray pairs of underwear and his stupid alarm clock that never works right before heading downstairs.

Hiyoshi and Zaizen are waiting for him by the front door.

“Nice to see you wearing clothes for once,” Zaizen says.

“And you managed to wake up on time,” Hiyoshi says.

Kirihara smiles easily and puts his hands behind his head. “This is a new me. Be ready to see a lot of changes.” Hiyoshi doesn’t look so convinced. Zaizen grins. Kirihara looks over his shoulder. “Mom, we’re going now. I’ll call when we reach the next town.”

He doesn’t focus on her reaction—it’ll just upset the both of them.

They leave Kirihara’s house and walk along the dirt road towards the forest, heading north. The sun is out and a gentle breeze carries up the scent of saltwater from the bay. Kirihara does not feel homesick, but he knows he probably will once the town is behind them. He’ll miss the lab, the bay, the grassy hills, his mother’s cooking—the things behind him are different from what’s ahead of him: his dream.

“What about the others?” Kirihara asks. “Kaidoh and the rest of our class?”

“Momoshiro rode out on his bike yesterday after getting his Pokémon,” Zaizen says. “Kaidoh saw him and ran alongside him. They raced out of town.”

“Kamio left yesterday afternoon,” Hiyoshi says.

Kirihara grips his hair in frustration. “ _Ugh_. I wanted a head start on them!” He drops his arms to his side, feeling Shinx’s ball on his belt.

“It won’t matter if they have a day head start,” Hiyoshi says. “I’ll be the first to get my eight badges and reach the Pokémon League.”

Kirihara snorts. “Yeah, right. We all know _I’m_ gonna be the first to reach the Pokémon League.”

Hiyoshi and Kirihara glare at each other across Zaizen, who sighs and pushes them both. Kirihara begins to shout at him, saying how dangerous that was, but Hiyoshi seems to have calmed his head. Zaizen rolls his eyes as Kirihara lectures him poorly on the “dangers” of messing around in the open wild, like Kirihara is one to talk.

New Pallet Town shrinks behind them, their home growing further and further away, but they never look back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have several chapters of this fic planned, but it's something I wouldn't want to post until all chapters are completed. Buuut I thought this chapter could act as a short one-shot so I thought I'd share.
> 
> (All images used are the property of bulbapedia.)


	2. Gotta Catch ‘em All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently on hand
> 
> Kirihara: Shinx  
> Hiyoshi: Froakie  
> Zaizen: Charmander

The route between New Pallet Town and their first destination, Acro City, is surrounded by trees but sparse with life—human or Pokémon.

Kirihara and Hiyoshi have been on constant look out for a Pokémon, each one of them swearing that they would catch a Pokémon before the other, but they have yet to see a single thing. Neither of them is deterred. Zaizen wishes they would shut up and enjoy their journey.

Why did he ever agree to travel with these two?

“There won’t be any Pokémon along the main route,” Zaizen says. “The path is too open, there’s nowhere for them to hide. You’d have better luck in the forest where there’s tall grass, or in the river with a fishing rod.”

Kirihara gawks at him. “You’re really smart.”

Zaizen just paid attention in school, but he knows saying that will get him punched. Instead, he says, “We should stop for a bit, take a break.”

Kirihara’s stomach growls loudly. He rubs his stomach and blushes as he laughs. “I forgot to eat before leaving home.”

Hiyoshi smacks his palm against his own forehead. “And I call you my rival…”

Kirihara whips his head around to look at Hiyoshi. “What?”

“Nothing,” Hiyoshi grumbles.

They walk until they find a nice clearing next to the route, a large patch of short grass with a few rocks and logs that they can move around and sit on. They sit in a loose circle, digging through their bags for lunch.

Kirihara pulls out a sandwich his mother made and a large bottle of water. Hiyoshi has bread with Oran jam and a canteen for water.

Zaizen dumps out the contents of his bag. He has everything they could possibly need—a map of Tenipuri, a container for water, two week’s worth of food (human and Pokémon), empty Poké Balls, Potions, Repels, and other things like useful books and a wireless radio. He even has a tent large enough for the three of them, though he is not sharing unless it’s a dire situation.

Kirihara and Hiyoshi stare. Zaizen thinks they shouldn’t be this surprised. They’ve planned this journey for years; they knew what Zaizen planned to bring.

“What?” Zaizen asks.

“I always thought you were kidding when you told us everything you wanted to bring,” Kirihara says, awestruck. He grabs Zaizen’s bag and begins to pull out more things—a sleeping bag, flint and steel, pots and pans for cooking—but Zaizen takes possession of his bag before Kirihara can empty it completely. “Seriously, how’d you get it all to fit?”

“How do Pokémon fit inside of Poké Balls?” Zaizen replies.

“I don’t know,” Kirihara says.

Zaizen takes out three food dishes and a container of Pokémon pellets, nasty looking brown things that smell like a horrible combination of berries, but they’re good for Pokémon. He fills each dish then reaches down to his belt for his Poké Ball.

“Charmander, come out.” With a flash, Charmander is standing in front of him. Zaizen says, “Food,” and Charmander turns, plopping down into the grass and eating. Zaizen looks at his friends. “Shinx and Froakie can have some too—that’s why I poured three bowls.”

Kirihara and Hiyoshi hurriedly release their Pokémon, who each sit in front of a bowl and begin to eat. The three Pokémon seem to chat with one another while they eat, though Zaizen doesn’t know what they’re saying. He wishes he could understand them. That would make his job infinitely easier.

Zaizen takes out a sandwich and begins to eat, leaning back against a rock and watching Charmander curiously. Charmander lets out small embers from his mouth to burn his food before eating it.

“How long ‘til we get to Acro City?” Kirihara asks, spitting food everywhere.

“You’re a barbarian,” Hiyoshi says, frowning.

“Five days, give or take,” Zaizen says, answering Kirihara’s question. “New Pallet Town is surprisingly far away from anywhere else. Once we get to Acro City, our trips between towns will be shorter.”

Kirihara starts frowning in concentration. “And from Acro City we go to—“

“Just worry about getting to Acro City for now,” Zaizen says. “There’s a Gym there for you two. You should catch a few more Pokémon before you challenge the Gym Leader.”

“I’ll catch a Pokémon first,” Kirihara says.

“No, I will,” Hiyoshi says.

“I will!”

“I will.”

“I call dibs on the river!” Kirihara says. “I’ll find a water-type that’s way better than Froakie.”

Hiyoshi retorts with, “Then I’ll go to the forest and catch a grass-type to beat your water-type.”

Kirihara and Hiyoshi scarf down the rest of their lunches. Hiyoshi finishes first and calls Froakie to his side, the water-type jumping up onto his shoulder. He treks into the forest, muttering something about not losing to a seaweed head.

Kirihara finishes moments later. He jumps to his feet but does not move.

“Um, Zaizen, where’s the river?”

Zaizen points in him the right direction. “How do you plan to catch anything?”

Kirihara rubs his head. “Fishing, I guess?”

“Do you have a fishing rod?” Kirihara shakes his head. Zaizen sighs. He feels like a mother instead of a friend. “You can borrow mine.” He digs through his bag for a small, collapsible fishing rod that he extends by pulling and twisting in the right places. He hands it over to Kirihara. “Use some berries. There’ll probably be some bushes by the river.”

“Thanks, Zaizen!”

Kirihara and Shinx run off.

Zaizen looks at Charmander, who is still slowly eating. He sighs again. “It’s gonna be a long trip, isn’t it, Charmander?”

Charmander nods.

“Once you’re done eating, how about we catalogue all the Pokémon in the area? You can help me look for tracks.”

Charmander cries out. Zaizen thinks that means— _hey, great idea!_ —but there’s no way to be sure.

 

* * *

 

Froakie continues to sit on Hiyoshi’s shoulder as they dive deeper and deeper into the forest, her large yellow eyes flicking at any sign of movement. They pass a handful of bug-type Pokémon, none of which appeal to Hiyoshi—Weedles, the occasional Kakuna, and a few Spinaraks that were working together to make a nest.

He’s debating leaving the forest and finding a field of tall grass when a bush several feet away rustles with movement. Hiyoshi slowly approaches, as quietly as he can, and parts the twigs and leaves.

He sees a small bird-like Pokémon on the other side, pecking at the ground of a small clearing.

** **

Hiyoshi pulls out his Pokédex.

 _Pidgey, the tiny bird Pokémon, normal-flying._ _Common in grassy areas and forests, it is very docile and will chase off enemies by flapping up sand._

Not a grass-type like he wanted, but it’s good enough. They learned in school that Pidgeys were on of the ‘trainer staples’—Pokémon that a lot of young trainers caught. They had good stats and listened well, and turned out to be nice long-term companions.

Hiyoshi is never one to stray from what he’s taught.

Plus as a water-type, Froakie is weak to grass-types, which are weak to flying-types like Pidgey. Hiyoshi can cover his flank with Pidgey.  

Froakie jumps off his shoulder and lands silently on the grass. Impressive, Hiyoshi thinks. It’s like Froakie is built for stealth.

The first step to catching a Pokémon is to weaken it.

“Froakie,” he says in a hushed voice, “on three, jump through the bush and use Bubble. One, two, three—“

Froakie jumps through the bush without fear, a spray of blue bubbles shooting from her mouth. They hit the target dead on, but the Pidgey kicks up dust.

“It used Sand-attack,” Hiyoshi says, quickly rising to his feet to watch. Froakie is rubbing her eyes. “Froakie, use Pound!”

Froakie stops rubbing at her eyes.

One her hands seems to glow white with power. She leaps, swinging her arm down, but the wild Pidgey flaps its wings and flies. The attack misses and the wild Pokémon flees from battle.

Froakie jumps back towards Hiyoshi, who squats down to examine her eyes. “You okay?”

Froakie nods.

“I’m sure Zaizen has something in that ridiculously large bag of his to clean your eyes.”

Froakie shakes her head.

Hiyoshi frowns. He’s only had her for a day, so he doesn’t know what she means or how she thinks. He takes a guess, “You want to keep going?”

Another nod.

Hiyoshi smiles at her determination—he picked the right Pokémon. He rises to his feet and Froakie jumps straight up, perching herself on his shoulder.

They press forward.

 For nearly half an hour, they find nothing but grass and bug-types. They run into another Pidgey, but it flees the second Froakie jumps out to attack. He doesn’t need a coward for a Pokémon, anyways.

Though at this point, he just needs something so he doesn’t show up at camp empty handed. As much as he hates to admit it, Kirihara may be a decent trainer—Hiyoshi wouldn’t call him a rival otherwise. He would never forgive himself if Kirihara caught something and he showed up without a Pokémon.

Finally, on the other side of a fallen, rotten tree, Hiyoshi sees a new Pokémon. Hiyoshi hides behind a nearby tree; Froakie jumps high into the lowest branch.

The wild Pokémon is tiny at best, only a little larger than Froakie, with tan skin and two stubby green legs. It has beady black eyes and green eyes all over its body.

** **

_Shroomish, the mushroom Pokémon, grass. They are often found keeping still under fallen leaves. This Pokémon feeds on compost that is made up of fallen, rotted leaves._

Not the most attractive sounding Pokémon, but it is probably his best bet. There is exactly a plethora of wild Pokémon in this area and he’s been gone for awhile now. He needs to get back to camp with a new Pokémon.

A water-type attack like Bubble wouldn’t do much damage. That meant—

“Froakie, use Pound,” he ordered quietly, hoping to not startle the wild Pokémon.

Froakie leaps, smashing her hand into Shroomish, which couldn’t react at all. The wild Pokémon tumbled back with the force of the hit, disoriented.

A little more and it might be weak enough to catch.

“Now use Bubble!”

Froakie lands on the fallen tree and spins, aiming at Shroomish before releasing a spray of bubbles at it. The Shroomish cries out as the attack hits.

Hiyoshi reaches down to his belt and grabs an empty Poké Ball.

The second step to catching a Pokémon is to toss a Poké Ball at it.

Hopefully the aim is forgiving, Hiyoshi thinks, and tosses the ball. He grew up learning self-defense, not baseball.

The Poké Ball cracks open, engulfing the wild Shroomish in a bright light, before clicking shut and rocking against the ground. One. Two. Three.

Hiyoshi slowly approaches the Poké Ball, which has stilled. Froakie jumps onto his shoulder—she must really like it there. Maybe it allows her to see further since she’s higher up?

Hiyoshi picks up the Poké Ball and opens it. Shroomish comes out, looking a little beaten up, but slightly more obedient.

He has no idea how to do this.

“My name is Hiyoshi. You’re my Pokémon now. When we get back to my friend, he can fix you up. Just wait in your Poké Ball until then.”

 

* * *

 

Kirihara has been gone for about two hours and hasn’t caught anything.

Shinx is energetically playing with an empty Poké Ball like a ball of yarn. Kirihara’s been sitting on the bank of a river, using berries from a nearby bush as bait (his idea, believe it or not), but hasn’t had a single bite. 

Time to panic.

He can’t go back without a Pokémon, especially after he swore to get one before Hiyoshi. He isn’t going to start off his journey by losing to Hiyoshi. 

It’s not like he can just pretend to have a Pokémon. Hiyoshi will want to battle as soon as possible—Kirihara would too if he had actually caught something!

What’s he even supposed to do to catch a Pokémon again? Weaken it and throw a Poké Ball, right?

“Shinx,” Kirihara says, “what moves do you know?”

Shinx rolls the empty Poké Ball towards his trainer, purring.

“I told you: I’ll play _after_ I catch the strongest thing in the river.”

Maybe Shinx could do that eye thing it had done with the Tauros at Professor Watanabe’s lab. What had the professor called it? Intimidate?

Suddenly, he feels a tug on his line.

Shinx jumps to attention, growling at the river, shining bright with electric energy. Kirihara stands and begins to pulling and reel in the Pokémon.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” he chants.

With one final yank, the Pokémon comes flying out of the water and slaps him straight in the gut. Its tail knocks an empty Poké Ball off his belt—he’s too busy dropping to his knees and swearing to notice the light or click—that thing hit him _hard._

“Oh Arceus,” Kirihara mutters angrily. “Shinx, attack it.”

He doesn’t even know what _it_ is. It hurts too much to move from his spot on the riverside, where he’s doubled over with the wind knocked out of him.

“Shinx, I don’t hear any attacking.”

He looks up and sees Shinx batting a rocking Poké Ball. He hears a soft click. Did he just catch something?

Kirihara manages to get to his feet and take the Poké Ball away from Shinx.

He opens the Poké Ball and the Pokémon, which he just accidentally caught (Hiyoshi doesn’t need to know that), splashes helplessly on the grass for several seconds before jumping into the river.

No.

Anything but _that._

** **

_Magikarp, the fish Pokémon, water. An underpowered, pathetic Pokémon. It may jump high on rare occasions, but never more than seven feet. In the distant past, it was somewhat stronger than the horribly weak descendants that exist today._

Shinx approaches the riverside and swats at the Magikarp.

“Shinx, don’t fight it,” Kirihara says, exhausted. Shinx backs away from the river, looking disappointed. “I’m just going to release this weak thing, get back to camp, and never speak of this to anyone.”

Kirihara looks at the Pokémon in the water, ready to release it, when its vacant eyes stare at him, and its pink lips seem to turn up into a smile, and its tail splashes almost happily in the water.

“No, don’t do that,” Kirihara says angrily. “I’m going to release you!”

Magikarp splashes water at Shinx, who cowers behind Kirihara’s legs, rubbing against his pants to get dry.

“I caught you by accident, you weakling fish!”

His anger rises.

“You hit a Poké Ball on my belt and caught yourself!”

Kirihara’s grip tightens on the Poké Ball.

“Stop looking at me like that!”

He just caught this pathetic thing. How can he just release it? Maybe it had wanted to be caught? How many other trainers might have released it after reeling it in?

Besides, Shinx is already weak. He can’t deal with another weak Pokémon.

Magikarp splashes Kirihara and swims in the water, looking happy.

Shoot. He can't release it. 

Oh, he is so going to regret this, isn’t he?

 

* * *

 

Zaizen and Charmander have just finished a brief walk through the forest and returned to camp when Hiyoshi comes out of the forest with Froakie on his shoulder.

Zaizen looks up from his sketchbook, where he drew the tracks Charmander and he found together. They found traces of six different bug-types, three grass-types, and several others that looked like flying-types. The total Pokémon population isn’t all that different New Pallet Town. That isn’t a surprise, though, since they’ve barely made it a few miles, but there are some differences now that they're away from direct human influence.

“How’d it go?” Zaizen asks. Hiyoshi sits on a log and lets out a new Pokémon. “You got a Shroomish. Nice.”

“Can you look it over?” Hiyoshi asks. “Froakie too? She has something in her eyes. She was hit by a Sand-attack.”

“Don’t you have Potions?”

“I do, but I don’t know how to clean out Froakie’s eyes and according to my Pokédex, Shroomish could kill me if I touch it wrong.”

Zaizen grins. “Yeah, I’ll help. Charmander, get my bag.”

The fire-type nods and hurries over to grab Zaizen’s bag, dragging it closer.

“Charmander looks like it’s obedient,” Hiyoshi comments.

“I think he’s docile in nature. He likes helping me with my research. We ran into a few Pokémon, but he didn’t want to fight at all.”

"He's good for you, then."

That is actually good, Zaizen agrees, since he has no intentions of fighting Pokémon left and right like Hiyoshi and Kirihara.

It takes a few minutes to fix up Froakie and Shroomish. While examining Shroomish, he determines the gender—it isn’t hard with a quick glance at his reference books.

“Shroomish is male.”

“Good to know.” There’s a pause, and Zaizen knows what Hiyoshi’s going to say before he does: “ _He’s late.”_

“Let’s give him another hour,” Zaizen says. “If he isn’t back by then, we’ll go to the river and find him. I want to make it to Acro City as soon as possible.”

Charmander sits next to Zaizen in the grass as he works on his journal, logging the information they learned and adding additional sketches and information, noting the references and sources.

Meanwhile, Hiyoshi is nearby, doing his daily exercise routine that he learned at the dojo. Froakie copies him, moving her arms like she’s human ninja, while Shroomish watches.

Zaizen isn’t surprised that Hiyoshi hasn’t given up on his dojo teachings. Traditionalism is synonymous with Hiyoshi Wakashi, after all. 

They’re five minutes away from going out and looking for Kirihara when he shows up to camp, Shinx trotting behind him.

“Here’s your rod,” Kirihara says, handing it back to Zaizen.

“Catch anything?” Zaizen asks.

Kirihara rubs the back of his head. “Um, kinda. By accident.”

“Accident?” Hiyoshi asks, stopping his routine and coming over. Froakie jumps up onto his shoulder. Shroomish waddles close behind, slow, and hides behind Hiyoshi’s leg.

“What is that?” Kirihara asks, pointing at Shroomish. “Did Hiyoshi the mushroom finally bud?”

Hiyoshi rolls his eyes. “He’s a Shroomish. I caught him in the forest _. On purpose_.”

“What did you catch on accident?” Zaizen presses.

“It’s a secret weapon for the Gym,” Kirihara says, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s lying through his teeth. Zaizen and Hiyoshi look at him, not fooled, and Kirihara grumbles as he reaches for a Poké Ball on his belt. “Don’t freakin’ laugh, okay?”

“No promises,” Zaizen says.

Kirihara glares at him, but it doesn’t last for long. He looks nervously at the Poké Ball in his hand and then releases the Pokémon inside.

Hiyoshi snorts. Zaizen laughs.

Kirihara calls back his Magikarp, and crosses his arms, and looks stubbornly at the ground as his cheeks turning more and more red, almost as red as his Magikarp.

“Why didn’t you just release it?” Hiyoshi asks. “How can we battle if _that’s_ your only other Pokémon?”

“At least it has a cool evolution,” Zaizen admits. “But Hiyoshi has a point. Why didn’t you release it? You’ve always gone on and on about only catching strong Pokémon.”

“You couldn’t do it, could you?” Hiyoshi asks, unimpressed.

Kirihara doesn’t answer.

Zaizen sighs and stands. “We can talk about this while we’re walking. I want to travel a bit more before nightfall.”

“Who put you in charge?” Kirihara asks.

Zaizen gives him a flat look. “What, like you trust yourself to guide us? You barely based geography. Can you read a map? Did you even bring a map?"

“Hey! That was a low blow.”

“Not low enough,” Hiyoshi mutters.

“I heard that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, before I get any further, just know that this fic is sort of for fun since I have a massive love of Pokémon (and I know not a ton of people will be reading this so I can have some fun and not worry about disappointing anyone haha). I’m not editing as heavily so there are probably some mistakes and the chapters aren’t going to be crazy long or overly complicated.


	3. Journal: Kirihara Akaya I

Yo, what’s up?

This is day one of my journey and, uh, I don’t know what to write…

My mom made me promise I would keep this journal. She said all good trainers keep a journal. I’m going to be a Pokémon Master so I guess that means I gotta keep a pretty awesome journal, huh?

And I’m talking to a journal.

This is weird. So so _SO_ weird.

Everyone is asleep right now. Zaizen pitched a massive tent and is sleeping inside by himself. Hiyoshi is in his sleeping bag.

I rolled out my sleeping bag but it’s not exactly cold here. Shinx refused to go into his ball and is sleeping in the grass by my hip. His ears keep twitching. I figure he’ll wake us up if something comes to attack us.

There’s this really weird sound coming from the trees, almost like a kid laughing. I checked earlier but saw nothing, and neither did Shinx, so I figure I’m still out of it from when Magikarp hit me.

Oh, yeah, forgot to mention. 

I caught a Magikarp today.

It’s super weak. I wanted to release it but I couldn’t. Hiyoshi told me I should. It just seems kind of cruel? I know I said that I would release all weak Pokémon, but I couldn’t in the end. I can always get rid of it later if it’s too annoying. But Zaizen did mention something about Magikarp evolving…

Sorry if this is the worst journal entry ever.

And now I’m apologizing to my journal.

I miss home. It’s only been a single day, and we haven’t really traveled all that far (according to Zaizen Know-it-all Hikaru) but I really do. I miss my bed. I miss my mom’s cooking and—I just miss my mom. I’ll call her when we reach Acro City. Zaizen says we should be there in a few days.

Hopefully I’ll catch something better than a freaking Magikarp before then. Even Hiyoshi’s stupid mushroom thing would be better than my Magikarp.

I want to get my first badge and start moving towards my goal, the Tenipuri Pokémon League. You need eight badges to qualify.

So, uh, yeah. That’s it.

Akaya out. 


End file.
